Shadows
by hanemg
Summary: A mysterious stranger comes to town to shadow Chloe, find Clark, and confront Lionel. Final part of the Drop Cloth and Canvas storyline.
1. Default Chapter

Shadows (The Stranger)  
  
by: hanemg  
  
Disclaimer: I neither own nor claim any formalized attachment with the characters/situations contained herein. This work of fan fiction is purely for enjoyment purposes only and no profit is gained with its use. Smallville and all its characters are the property of Warner Bros., DC Comics, Miller/Gough et al.  
  
The 1968 Charcoal-Grey Ford Mustang drove into town virtually unnoticed. After two years of sharing a town with Lex Luthor and his varying taste in sports cars, Mustangs no longer rated more than a passing glance by the people of Smallville. Only a few of the die-hard car fanatics gave it a second glance when it passed and only a few of those were knowledgeable enough that the sound of the engine identified it as definitely not stock for that model.  
  
The car made its way though town obeying the speed limits and pulled into the parking lot of Smallville High. Even during the summer Smallville High was a busy place. Football and Band camps were only a couple of the things happening on campus. The school was also in session for summer make-up classes and a few college prep classes were offered as well.  
  
The driver of the car got a few more looks than the car itself from the females on the sidewalk when he exited the vehicle after finding a parking space in front. He appeared to be between the ages of 18-20, was over six feet tall, muscular with blond hair and piercing blue-gray eyes. The most distracting thing about him was a scar that ran from the bottom of his right eyebrow along the side of his eye and ended at the top of his cheek. It didn't really detract from his handsomeness, but it did tend to draw one's attention away from his face and made it difficult to look him straight in the eyes when speaking to him. He wore khaki pants and a dark polo shirt. He gave the street a sweeping glance before entering the school.  
  
Once inside he stopped and asked a passing student for some directions and quickly arrived at his destination, the school library. Walking inside he approached the librarian.  
  
"Excuse me ma'am. Could you direct me to the student yearbooks please?"  
  
Mrs. Haney, the head librarian, looked up from her desk and studied the young man for a moment before answering. She had been at this school for close to twenty years and was known for a memory of students and their behavior while in her domain, which bordered on the paranormal. This young man she knew she had never seen before.  
  
"Certainly, they're in the back corner by the window. Is there anything in particular I can help you with? I don't think I remember you ever being a student here."  
  
Mrs. Haney was nothing if not blunt, a tactic she used often to rattle both students and co-workers alike. It had given her the reputation as a no- nonsense disciplinarian that couldn't be fooled and usually caused the person to whom the bluntness was directed to squirm under her gaze and readily confess all of their sins.  
  
It didn't affect this stranger in the least. He smiled a disarmingly handsome smile and simply replied, "No, thank you. I'm just doing some genealogy research."  
  
Without a backward glance or another word he swung around and headed in the direction the librarian had indicated.  
  
Arriving at the shelves containing the complete selection of Smallville High's yearbooks he selected the most recent few and found a seat at one of the tables. He thumbed through the latest edition and quickly located both of his subjects. The next step was to go through the yearbooks looking for other entries about either person in order to connect them with any known associates. After several minutes of going through the last couple of years' worth of yearbooks, the task was complete and he had no choice but to acknowledge that neither individual could be considered a "social butterfly."  
  
The school newspaper seemed to be the only extracurricular activity that either engaged in and the only other regular participant in pictures featuring either of the two was a young black kid. He had quickly found the kid's picture in the class photos and filed the name away in his impeccable memory. He did come across a picture of the boy standing next to an attractive dark haired girl during a blood drive last year. The look on the boy's face as he was talking to the girl was enough to indicate that the girl warranted further investigation. After a moment her name and face were committed to memory along with the other three.  
  
The stranger stared at the picture of the boy. He supposed the boy would be considered handsome, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to indicate the importance that was being placed upon him. Nothing to indicate that he was anything more than just a farm kid, like dozens of others in this school. Nothing that would have told you that the first light to touch his face had not come from this star.  
  
He closed the book and put it and the others back on the shelf. Next he would read through as many of the back issues of the school paper and the local paper that he could before heading over to the courthouse. The more local news he had the better.  
  
**********************  
  
Three hours later he felt well versed in local affairs. He could have debated local politics as well as various meteor-related phenomenon from both sides of the issues.  
  
He smiled at Mrs. Haney as he left the library and she smiled back despite herself. He briefly considered breaking into the Torch office, but just as quickly discarded the idea as there was a greater chance of being seen in the daylight and it was possibly occupied at this time of day anyway. Instead he came up with an alternative.  
  
Heading down to the end of the corridor he came to one of the side entrances. He pushed it open cautiously and looked around outside. This particular entrance opened onto a back area of the school that looked to be little used. Looking around on the ground he quickly found some weeds breaking though the concrete. He bent down and pulled some of them up and then began jamming them into the locking cylinder in the door jab causing it to stick in place and not allow the door to lock when it closed. As long as no one noticed he would have easy access to the building later that night.  
  
The initial phase of his mission accomplished he headed off the school grounds toward the courthouse.  
  
**********************  
  
After a quick stop at a gas station restroom where he changed into a dress shirt, tie and jacket he headed to the courthouse. He quickly located the office for Probation and Parole and walked in. The receptionist was young, just a couple of years older than him and she favored him with a bright smile when he approached her desk.  
  
"Yes, sir. May I help you?" She asked.  
  
The man favored her with one of his best smiles as he reached into his pocket and pulled out I.D., which he showed to the woman.  
  
"Rob McNeeley, Federal Probation." The man said pocketing his I.D. "I'm in town checking up on one of our probationers. Nothing going on, just a routine visit, but I was wondering if you had a private terminal I could use undisturbed for a bit. There are a few of his associates I would like to run through NCIC."  
  
The woman considered this for a minute before answering.  
  
"Well, we don't usually do this, but I guess we can make an exception for a federal officer. Bill Woods is out for the day. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you used his office. I'll have to log onto the system for you though."  
  
"Great," he answered, his smile getting even friendlier, if that were possible "I really appreciate all of your help."  
  
The woman blushed slightly and standing up led him back to an empty office.  
  
She gestured for him to have a seat at the desk in front of the terminal and then leaned in very close to him as she logged onto the system. After the terminal connected to the main system she turned to him with a wide smile and maintaining her close proximity said, "If you need anything else. Anything at all, just let me know."  
  
"Oh, I will ma'am. I most definitely will." He said returning the smile.  
  
The woman stood up and left the office then leaving him to his work. He entered the juvenile database and quickly ran the four kids names not really expecting anything, but knowing that in this kind of work you didn't assume anything. To his surprise Subject #1 seemed to have quite a past police record, but all of the charges had been dismissed following investigation. The only one that was dismissed by the court itself was a felony escape charge. The other three had also figured prominently in several past investigations. Exiting out of the juvenile records he ran their parents names through NCIC. Subject #1's father's record seemed to mirror that of his son's. Several charges all dismissed in the course of investigation. The family apparently believed in getting involved in community affairs. That or community affairs believed in getting them involved whether they liked it or not.  
  
What he couldn't find though was a missing person's report on Subject #1. He supposed considering the secret the boy's family was protecting they might have been reluctant to file one, but it would surely have been the most expedient route to take in locating him so there must be more to the story. He actually didn't even know for sure that the boy was missing, so he would have to take steps tomorrow in verifying the matter after he checked into a couple of more things about Subject #2. If the boy was home safe then he would be able to focus all of his energies on her and he needed to be prepared.  
  
He quickly printed out hard copies of all he had learned and then logged onto the DMV database. There he was able to get information regarding all of the vehicles owned by the principal players in this scenario. He then logged off of the system and exited the office. Before he left he promised the receptionist that he would stop back by to see her in a few days when he was back in town.  
  
His next stop was in the county record office where he was able to get copies of detailed maps for Lowell County and Smallville on which he had carefully marked the locations of various properties. He then headed back to the school to look around the parking lot and sure enough within a few minutes he spotted the 2002 red, convertible Volkswagen Beetle. He continued on past it and parked in a space toward the end of the parking lot where a Ford Taurus blocked his car from view. He still had a good view of the VW through the Taurus' window, though, and he settled down to wait.  
  
After about an hour a blonde and brunette approached the car and got in. He instantly recognized the two girls from the yearbook pictures he had seen earlier. Apparently there was a connection between them as well. He waited for them to pull out onto the street and then he started his car.  
  
Following someone is as much art as technique. There were certain rules to learn, but the art came from knowing how and when those rules were implemented. Always stay to the right, just a few cars behind. If you get to close, immediately get into their blind spot. Vary your distances and don't draw attention to yourself though sudden lane changes or squealing tires.  
  
He knew all of this and quickly settled into an easy routine as he followed them into traffic. There were just enough cars out on the streets of Smallville at this time of day that the Mustang easily blended into the background. The girls appeared to be in no real hurry so he was able to drop back a little further than usual without fear of losing them.  
  
After a few miles their car turned into a residential neighborhood and the Mustang dropped back even further. Quickly checking his map he ascertained that Subject #2 was returning home. He parked on the street a few houses down and sat considering his next move. If she was home now, there was a good chance that the Torch office would be empty and it would be the best time to search it rather than having to wait until the middle of the night. This way, if he were caught he could claim to be a night class student who had gotten lost rather than be mistaken for a burglar with no way to explain himself.  
  
As he sat there absently staring at the house while he considered his options he was startled to see a kid appear out of thin air on the sidewalk in front of the house. He stared almost transfixed as the kid started down the street toward him whistling to himself. The kid shot his forefinger at him as he passed and said "Hey, nice car."  
  
Perhaps, the stranger thought to himself, there might be something to Chloe Sullivan's claims regarding meteor mutants in Smallville. That or young Mr. Kent wasn't the only extraterrestrial in town.  
  
He quickly came to the decision that Sullivan was probably going to be in her house for awhile anyway and this new development might give him some valuable knowledge. Waiting until the kid got to the corner he started his car and pulled out of the parking space intending to follow on foot from a distance once he had removed his car from the residential district. However, when he turned around the boy was gone.  
  
End Part 1 


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2  
  
Failing to find the kid after a few passes though the neighborhood the man opted to head over to the school. When he arrived the night classes were started and he considered entering though the front doors, but rejected the idea as too dangerous should someone stop him to ask who he was or where he was going.  
  
He walked around to the back and found the entrance he had rigged earlier. The door opened easily and he walked to the stairwell and climbed up to the second floor where he quickly found the Torch office. He tried the door, but as he expected it was locked. The lock was of the same as the others he had observed earlier today and was of a type that was common in most schools. Reaching in his pocket he pulled out a set of professional lock picks and had the door open in under 20 seconds.  
  
He entered the office and locked the door behind him. He didn't turn on the lights, but did cross over to the windows where he lowered the blinds before turning on his flashlight. He located a desk with a "Chloe Sullivan, Editor" nameplate on it and began to search it. The desk itself was also locked which was a surprise itself as most old schools usually had to settle for second hand furniture. This usually meant that the keys to any desks were long gone several owners ago. A quick inspection revealed that all of the furniture in the room was new and of the same brands along with the computer system. This probably meant a fairly recent large donation by someone. But who would put this much money into a school newspaper?  
  
The desk lock presented less of a problem than the door lock and was opened ever quicker. He found little of value and absolutely no information that was of use to him. Turning his attention to the computer he noticed the LuthorCorp Logo on the sides. They then were probably the source of the donation. The question that immediately came to mind was why would LuthorCorp and Lionel Luthor especially be interested in a school paper in general and this one in particular.  
  
He booted up the computer and as expected was queried for a password. He turned the computer back off and then pulled a small laptop from a case he had brought with him. He also pulled out what looked like a 3 ½'' computer disk, but this one had a small computer ribbon attached to the disk on one end and a network card attached to the other. He plugged the network card into his laptop and inserted the fake disk into the desktop computer and booted it up again.  
  
This time when it queried for the password the laptop began to whir as it worked and after a minute provided the correct response allowing the computer to complete it's boot up.  
  
"'Bigdumbmutant'" he said to himself. "Hmmm, interesting choice of passwords."  
  
After he was in he turned to his laptop and ran a quick diagnostic of the Torch's system. As expected he found a topnotch security system. Unexpectedly, however, he found a set of monitoring programs in operation that would have made the most paranoid of governments proud. Every keystroke, every website, every deleted file, everything period was recorded, copied and transferred to another site on the network on a regular basis.  
  
"That would certainly explain the level of attention the doctor has gotten lately, " he said to himself.  
  
Fortunately, the security protocols on his laptop would prevent the monitoring program from even knowing that the desktop was in use for the time being. He began the process of transferring the contents of the hard drive to his laptop before exploring the network itself. Bringing up a second program he begin to make a map of the network. Within a few moments he found that he could bring up the main LuthorCorp network screen, which meant that this computer had a direct link to that system. Backing out of the network before he could trigger any alarms he returned to the desktop computer and began manually browsing the files.  
  
Buried about six levels down he found a password-protected directory. Using the LockPick program on his laptop he was able to slice into the directory in a matter of seconds.  
  
"Pinkisstupid," he muttered. "I'm starting to think that this girl might be in need of some professional help."  
  
The directory provided him with answers to several questions. It contained a fairly copious file detailing efforts in an on-going investigation of Clark Kent, which he read with growing interest. It also contained various progress reports about said investigation and all were directed to Lionel Luthor.  
  
"He was right," the stranger said aloud. "The kid is in danger and all because one of his friends decided to betray him for what looks like the chance to get an article in the Daily Planet."  
  
The man shook his head in disgust. He told himself that he shouldn't be surprised at people's acts of greed. It was, after all, one of the first lessons he had been forced to learn.  
  
His absorption in his anger almost made him miss the sound of a key turning in the lock.  
  
"Give me a second guys, I gotta get some things out of the office then we'll head down to the Talon." A voice said from outside before a black teenage boy walked through the door.  
  
There had been no place to hide, nor any chance to so the man settled for an attempt at a bluff.  
  
The kid, who he immediately recognized as Pete Ross, stopped cold when he saw him sitting there and almost got knocked over by the two other boys that came in behind him.  
  
"Who are you?" Pete demanded.  
  
"Oh, sorry," the man said acting totally unruffled. "I'm Jeff Justice with LuthorCorp IT. Mr. Luthor wanted me to stop by and check out the system after that nasty virus the other day."  
  
"In the dark?" Pete asked suspiciously.  
  
The man barked a short laugh before answering. "An old layover from collage, I'm afraid. Used to working in front of computer screens at all hours of the night. It's a wonder I don't need glasses."  
  
"Uh uh," Pete said clearly unconvinced. "You got any ID?"  
  
The man made a show of reaching into his pocket before replying, "Must have forgotten it in the car."  
  
Whatever Pete was going to say at that moment was interrupted by the laptop signaling that the file transfer was complete.  
  
"What were you doing with that thing?" Pete asked pointing to the laptop.  
  
"System check, like I said," replied the man as he quickly ejected the disk from the desktop CPU and closed his laptop.  
  
"I think I'd better look at that if you don't mind." Pete said starting forward.  
  
"Really, kid, come on. I'm just doing my job." He slipped the laptop and disk into its carrying case and got up from the desk slipping the strap of the case over his shoulder.  
  
"The man said he wanted to look at your computer," said one of the other boys menacingly as he stepped forward.  
  
"Yeah," said the other one also stepping around Pete.  
  
"Look, kids," the man said stressing the word "kids" in an attempt at intimidation "I don't won't any trouble. I'm just doing what Mr. Luthor told me to do. Don't you know that he's very interested in Ms. Sullivan and the school paper?"  
  
Pete started to speak, but was interrupted by the first kid who had stepped forward.  
  
"I don't care who he's interested in, give us that computer."  
  
"I'm leaving," the man said. "This is ridiculous."  
  
He started around the boys when the first one grabbed his arm.  
  
"You're not going anywhere."  
  
The man grabbed the kid's arm with his free hand and applying pressure made him yell in pain and let go.  
  
What happened next was so fast that later Pete was at a loss to describe it.  
  
The second kid started forward when his friend yelled in pain. The man turned slightly toward him and hit the kid in the throat with his stiffened fingers causing him to stagger backwards tripping over a desk as he gasped for breath. The man then brought his knee up hard into the first boy's groin and as he doubled over in pain hit him in the face with his forearm causing him to drop to the floor stunned.  
  
Pete had never been a fighter. His size had actually made him the target of a few bullies before Clark came along. When Clark wasn't with him, Pete often relied upon humor to defuse situations. He wasn't a coward though and when both of his fellow teammates were incapacitated he moved to stop their attacker even though he knew his chances were slim to none considering the skill the stranger had just demonstrated.  
  
Jumping forward the moment the last boy hit the floor Pete threw the single best punch of his life. Unfortunately, it never landed. His fist was caught in a vice like grip and then his arm twisted inward as he was brought to his knees in pain before being shoved backwards to the floor.  
  
The man started around him, but Pete refused to give up. Getting to his feet he made a grab for the man before he could get to the door. He was able to get a handful of the man's jacket and started to pull, but was surprised when the man stepped toward him instead of away throwing him off balance. Before he knew what happened his feet were knocked out from under him and he was thrown to the floor. Despite this Pete didn't slacken the death grip he had on the guy's jacket.  
  
The man stared into his eyes for a moment without speaking. Seeming to give some unknown issue great thought and then he spoke.  
  
"Pete, I don't want to fight you."  
  
"How the hell do you know my name?!" Pete demanded.  
  
"I was sent by Dr. Virgil Swann."  
  
End Part 2 


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3  
  
"What the Hell!?" Pete almost screamed.  
  
"I was sent by Dr. Virgil Swann" the man repeated "and unless you want your friends to wonder what that means I suggest you keep your voice down."  
  
As if on cue the two boys started struggling to their feet and moving toward the stranger. Thinking fast Pete jumped to his feet.  
  
"Hey guys, hold up. False alarm. I remember seeing Mr. Justice now. He was here when they installed all this equipment. There's no need to fight."  
  
"What?!" The first guy yelled. "He just kicked our butts and you say 'false alarm'!"  
  
"Yeah," Pete said walking closer to the two guys and stressing his next words, "he kicked your butts and it sure is lucky you don't have to fight him again isn't it?"  
  
The two guys looked at each other for a second and then spoke.  
  
"Yeah," said one of the guys "you're right. We'll go ahead and get out of his way."  
  
"Sorry for the misunderstanding" the second guy said as the two inched around the stranger.  
  
"You coming, Pete?"  
  
"Huh? Pete said, "Uh, no. I think I'd better stay here and help Mr. Justice clean up."  
  
The two boys shrugged their shoulders and after a quick look at "Mr. Justice" hurried from the room as quickly as dignity would allow them.  
  
When they were gone Pete turned back to the stranger.  
  
"Ok, who are you and what's going on here?"  
  
"My name is Thomas Hunter and like I said before, I was sent by Dr. Virgil Swann."  
  
"Who's Virgil Swann?" Pete asked.  
  
"If you didn't know that then you wouldn't have covered for me a second ago."  
  
Pete was quiet a few seconds before answering. "Ok, let's say for a moment that I do. Why would he send you here?"  
  
"He thinks Clark is in danger."  
  
"What?!" Pete asked suddenly alarmed. "How? Why?"  
  
"A few days ago Chloe Sullivan sent an e-mail to Dr. Swann claiming that Clark Kent was missing. She also implied that she knew certain things about Clark and was aware of his relationship with Dr. Swann. Swann told me that as far as he knew no one outside of Clark's parents with the possible exception of one person knew about their connection. He said that he didn't know the name of that other person, but Clark had called him his "best friend" and definitely used a masculine pronoun when talking about him."  
  
"That's how you knew hearing Swann's name would stop me," Pete said.  
  
"Yes. I was able to read though a few of Sullivan's files before you and your friends interrupted me. She had a fairly in depth profile of you and she identified you has Clark's "best friend." That plus how you reacted to hearing Swann's name convinced me that you were the one Clark was talking about."  
  
"Chloe has a profile about me on her computer?"  
  
"Yes, you, Lana Lang, and the Kents as well as a various number of individuals whose names I recognize from local news as being involved in some criminal investigations."  
  
"Why would she have files on all of us?"  
  
"Apparently she's been conducting an investigation of Clark for Lionel Luthor."  
  
"You must be kidding. Chloe working for Luthor? There's got to be some kind of mistake. Chloe loves Clark. She wouldn't do anything to hurt him."  
  
"I don't know about the love part, but I don't see a lot of room for mistakes. When Swann got her e-mail he became suspicious. He sent back a reply denying any knowledge or connection to Clark. Attached to it was a virus of Swann's own design. It was supposed to ferret out any information she had on her computer in regards to Clark, what happened instead was the virus was attacked by some type of security system. It shouldn't have been vulnerable to just any run of the meal anti-virus program. The information it sent back to Swann described a fairly high tech program that's not available to high school newspapers. A couple of days later Swann's system came under attack by hackers unknown and a couple of unknown gentlemen even came for a personal visit. When Swann didn't allow them entry they tried to force their way in but were stopped by Swann's own security."  
  
"That could just be a coincidence," said Pete.  
  
"The only common denominator in these incidents," Thomas replied "is Chloe Sullivan."  
  
"I still say Chloe wouldn't have anything to do with Luthor," Pete insisted.  
  
Thomas sighed and pulled out his laptop, put it on the desk and turned it on.  
  
"I downloaded the contents of her hard drive. Take a look. The password is "pinkisstupid"."  
  
Pete's head came up with a strange look on his face, but said nothing. He turned to the computer and after opening the folder started to read.  
  
"I can't believe this," he whispered. "She's been playing us all for fools. I remember all of these conversations. I thought they were kind of strange at the time, but hey, Chloe goes for strange. All this time I was feeling sorry for her and she was just trying to pump me for information."  
  
"You and others apparently. Doesn't look like she got a lot from you or the Lang girl, but the transcripts of her conversations with some of the others are nothing if not interesting."  
  
"We need to tell the Kents," Pete said suddenly. "They're worried sick about Clark and it's hard telling how Chloe might play them if they aren't thinking clearly."  
  
"Good point," Thomas replied. "Come on, I'll drive and I'll need you to introduce me."  
  
**************************  
  
Twenty minutes later they were at the Kent Farm. Jonathan Kent answered the door and was a bit startled to see Pete with a stranger.  
  
"Pete, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?"  
  
"This is Thomas Hunter, Mr. Kent. He works for Dr. Swann and says Clark might be in some danger."  
  
"What kind of danger?" Martha Kent said rushing out from the kitchen.  
  
"Hold on, Martha," Jonathan said. "Listen, Mr. Justice. I'm not sure who you are, but how do you know anything about Clark?"  
  
"He knows, Mr. Kent," Pete interrupted. "Dr. Swann told him about Clark."  
  
Jonathan and Martha looked at each other for a moment before Jonathan spoke.  
  
"I'm not sure exactly what Dr. Swann thinks he knows about Clark, but."  
  
"Clark's an extraterrestrial from a planet called Krypton. His real name is Kal-El and his parents sent him to Earth to escape some type of danger."  
  
Thomas' matter of fact recitation left everyone in the room a bit stunned.  
  
"Listen, Mr. and Mrs. Kent," he continued, "if we waste our time dancing around trying to find out what the other one knows we'll never get anywhere. Dr. Swann believes Clark may be in danger and the information I have uncovered shows that he's probably right."  
  
"I thought Swann was going to keep Clark's secrets," Martha said.  
  
"He would have ma'am, but when he came to believe that Clark was in danger he needed help and had to confide in me to get it. I don't like to go into things blind."  
  
"You work for Dr. Swann?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"I'm more of a student," Thomas replied. "I was with Swann to learn about communication systems from the best. He knew I had certain other talents and appeared to be the best suited to help out with this."  
  
"That's all very well and good Mr. Hunter," Jonathan said "but you're in possession of information that could place this family in every bit as much danger as you seem to think its in already."  
  
"I know something about secrets, Mr. Kent. That's why Dr. Swann knew he could trust me. I have no interest in Clark or his origins. The last thing I would do is endanger your family. I won't ask you to trust me because I know exactly how ridiculous that would sound if I were in your shoes. All I can do is demonstrate my intentions though my actions. I want nothing from you or Clark. I only want to help."  
  
He held out his hand then and after a moment of meeting Jonathan's unwavering gaze with one of his own Jonathan took the hand in a firm handshake.  
  
"Ok, what do you know about Clark?"  
  
******************************  
  
Thomas outlined the same story for the Kents that he had for Pete earlier and they were just as equally shocked to hear of Chloe's involvement.  
  
"I can't believe Chloe would turn on Clark just for the chance to get a column in The Planet," Martha said.  
  
"She was real mad at Clark just before he left, Mrs. Kent," Pete said. "She was having some trouble with Clark being with Lana."  
  
"Hell hath no fury," Thomas mummered.  
  
"What should we do?" Martha asked.  
  
"Well, first of all I understand from Pete that Clark is indeed missing and he told me a little of why he left. He says that all of you and Lana Lang have been working on the assumption that Clark is somewhere in Metropolis."  
  
"Yes," replied Martha "there have been some reports of someone with incredible powers running around the city and it has to be Clark."  
  
"Is that why you didn't file a missing person's report?"  
  
"Partially," said Jonathan "but mostly because as long as Clark wears that red kryptonite ring it would be too dangerous for anyone to confront him."  
  
"Red kryptonite ring? What are you talking about?"  
  
"Pete didn't explain that part? Before he left Clark was feeling so guilty about everything that he put on a class ring that had a red meteor rock as the setting. We think that this rock is from his home planet like the green ones only this one makes him arrogant and uncaring. He put it on so he wouldn't feel the pain and guilt he was suffering."  
  
"Even though it obviously causes him to not care about bringing pain and suffering to others," Thomas said.  
  
"No," Martha said quickly, "you don't understand. Clark's a good boy. He only did what he did to begin with because he wanted to keep pain and suffering from happening to everyone he loves. He truly believed he was saving everyone. He's just confused now and the ring makes it worse."  
  
"You said that this type of stone makes him arrogant and uncaring. What does the green ones do to him?"  
  
Martha looked at Jonathan before answering. "It might be the only way to stop him Jonathan. The only way to bring him home."  
  
"He has some type of allergy to them," Jonathan said. "They make him weak. It was the only way we were able to get the red ring away from him last time."  
  
"Do you have one around here?" Thomas asked. "I may need it when I find him."  
  
"I'll hold on to it if you don't mind," Jonathan replied. "If you find him, call me and I'll take care of my son."  
  
Thomas paused in thought for a moment before answering, "Whatever you wish, Mr. Kent, but if half of the things I read about Clark in Ms. Sullivan's files are true then you may not be able to handle him alone."  
  
"Wait," Martha said, "Dr. Swann didn't tell you about Clark's abilities?"  
  
"If he knows he kept it to himself. He just told me about Clark's alien origins and how he came to be on Earth, nothing else. You may want to fill me in so I can at least protect myself if it comes to it."  
  
Jonathan and Martha looked at each other once again, but finally told Thomas all they knew about Clark's abilities. When they were finished the four of them sat down at the kitchen table and begin to develop a plan as to how to proceed from there.  
  
"Sullivan's obviously trying to get all of the information that she can about Clark. We need to see to it that she begins to have some reasonable doubts about her findings." Thomas said. "Anyone have any ideas about that?"  
  
"Yeah," Pete said, "I've been kind of avoiding her lately because the last couple of times I was with her she started asking some questions about Clark that struck too close to home. I could let her "find" me again and ask some more. I think I know a couple of ways to throw her off the scent. Make her start doubting her findings."  
  
"And I need to get rid of that hole in the backyard where the cellar used to be," Jonathan added.  
  
"Good," Thomas said, "I'll follow her tomorrow to see where else she goes and then I'll look into finding a way to locate Clark."  
  
"Do you think you can?" Martha asked.  
  
"No man is an island, Mrs. Kent. If Clark is in Metropolis then someone has seen him. And if someone has seen him then it's only a matter of finding that person and making them talk. And trust me, I can make people talk."  
  
End Part 3 


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4  
  
Thomas followed Chloe around for a couple of more days without incident and had almost decided to drop her and head to Metropolis when Chloe began to do some shadowing of her own.  
  
He had followed her from her home that morning telling himself that if she didn't do anything more than go straight to the Torch office like she had on other mornings he was going to start on the Clark side of the investigation. Instead he saw her head to the Talon, pull in to a space a block down the street and simply stay in her car.  
  
He pulled into a space two blocks away from her and waited. After a bit he saw Lana Lang leave the Talon and head for her truck. A moment after she pulled out Chloe headed out behind her and a moment after that Thomas did as well. Thomas soon found himself on the road to Metropolis in a strange kind of caravan where no one member was aware of all of the other members' existence.  
  
When following someone over long distances on the open road you can fall back and let them ride the horizon. It was in doing this that he again spotted the kid that had appeared in front of the Sullivan's front doorstep a few days before. He was stepping out onto the shoulder looking up the road as if watching Chloe's VW or Lana's truck. When the Mustang passed Thomas saw him get a startled look in his eyes. A moment later looking in his rearview mirror Thomas saw him disappear from sight.  
  
"I've obviously been made," Thomas told himself, but the real question here is just who is this kid watching and why. The uncomfortable answer that came to mind was that the kid was probably sent by Luthor to keep an eye on Sullivan, which implied that he didn't trust her. The big problem with this was that Thomas' experience with people like Luthor told him that when they didn't trust someone it usually meant bad news for the poor sap who was foolish enough to do business with them.  
  
Thomas figured that Lana was going to Metropolis to post flyers like the Kents said they all had been doing on a regular basis. He decided that if this was the case and Chloe was following Lana to keep tabs on her activities then he knew how she was going to spend her day which left him with an opportunity to nose around Metropolis for a few leads on Clark. Thomas also thought that if he were to veer off in another direction from Chloe when he reached the city then it might lead the new kid to think Thomas had just been on the road by coincidence.  
  
When he entered the city limits he took one of the downtown exits and headed for a public library. There he could look through some of the recent news archives and get up to date on the sightings of the mysterious "Urban Legend" that had begun appearing in Metropolis several weeks ago. If this was indeed Clark Kent like his parents seemed to think then he might be able to find some patterns that the police had missed and figure out a way to track him down.  
  
**********************  
  
After an hour of looking at the latest issues of the Daily Planet as well as what video footage and commentary were available Thomas still knew little more than he did before.  
  
This "Urban Legend" had apparently made off with several thousand dollars from an automated teller several days ago. If this was Clark and he was affected by the red kryptonite the way the Kents said he was then Thomas figured he was probably making the party scene. No other such robberies had been reported so Clark was probably simply robbing as he needed to rather than from any particular motivation to steal and was partying it up until the money ran out.  
  
Thomas headed to a few of the major nightclubs to ask questions and show a picture of Clark around. At this time of day they wouldn't be open for business, but the business people and probably a few of the workers would be there and Thomas figured that an uninhibited 16 year-old with a lot of cash would probably stand out in a crowd. Especially if someone tried to bar him from a place where he wanted to have fun.  
  
After a couple of hours of asking around it became pretty obvious that Clark had been making the club scene on a regular basis, but only at a few of the high-class places. He had apparently gotten into an altercation with a few of the bouncers at one of the nightclubs because of his age. He had gained entry by slipping the doorman some money, but once inside the management had had problems with an under-aged kid being there and had not been deterred by his show of cash.  
  
The bouncers had tried to eject him from the premises and discovered to their surprise that this particular 16 year-old was a bit tougher than their ordinary trouble maker. Three of them the bartender told Thomas had been sent to the hospital that night. Clark had left immediately though once he heard the police sirens and had not been back.  
  
Thomas figured that with Clark's powers he had little to fear from the police so his leaving seemed to suggest that even with the red kryptonite interfering with his thinking he was still smart enough to keep a low profile. He started trying some of the out of the way nightspots and found a few that Clark sometimes frequented. He circulated a card with his cell phone number on it as well as a lot of money with several club's employees with the instructions that more would be forthcoming if he got a phone call the moment Clark showed up in one of these places.  
  
That evening he headed back toward Smallville because he was starting to get a little worried about Chloe Sullivan. If Luthor didn't trust her or if he thought that her investigation was going nowhere he might decide to cut his losses and dispose of her. Smallville was three hours from Metropolis, but if he got a call about Clark he figured the party boy would still be in the area if not the same club by the time he got there. The impression he got from the people he talked to today wasn't of a Clark Kent that moved from bar to bar unnoticed.  
  
***********************  
  
A couple of days later Thomas still had not gotten a call about Clark, but he had picked up the kid again outside of the Sullivan's house. He was hidden in the bushes and appeared to listening to something through an earpiece. As he was outside the Sullivan home Thomas was pretty sure that it meant the house was wired.  
  
This time he was able to get a few photographs though a night vision lens. With these he might be able to identify the boy and figure out what he was up to. Suddenly a light came on in one of the rooms of the house that Thomas was hiding by and the light illuminated his hiding place. He quickly moved to some shadows, but the movement must have caught the kid's eye because suddenly he heard a voice behind him and felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Alright, I don't need a watch-"  
  
Before the kid could finish the sentence Thomas grabbed the hand on his shoulder twisted and slammed him into a tree. He immediately followed up with a knee strike to the small of the kid's back and slammed his head into the tree trunk after it snapped back. Thomas then stepped back and allowed him to fall to the ground. He'd search him while he was unconscious.  
  
When the kid began to get up from the ground Thomas felt a momentary flicker of surprise.  
  
"How the hell.?" He thought to himself.  
  
Thomas quickly delivered a straight-armed punch to the young man's face that knocked him back to the ground. The kid might be stronger then he looked, but that would take the fight out of him. However, while the kid was knocked down Thomas felt like he'd just hit a brick wall. Involuntarily he let out a grunt of pain and rubbed his now sore hand.  
  
Impossibly, the kid regained his feet again and a mean grin split his face. He reached for Thomas who, reacting instinctively, trapped the hand against his body and executed a throw designed to stun an attacker and knock the breath from his body. Once the guy was on the ground Thomas followed up by dropping to one knee onto the guy's chest and quickly delivering two blows to his face using the hills of his hands. He then back flipped to his feet where he crouched in readiness.  
  
This was becoming annoying, Thomas thought when he realized that the kid was still conscious. He didn't have time to think things through further because suddenly the kid seemed to blur and move with incredible speed. Before Thomas could react the kid had slammed into his body.  
  
He realized at that moment that he didn't stand a chance of defeating this kid in a fair fight. He needed to end things quickly. Again he let instinct honed by years of training take over. Grabbing the kid around the neck he swept his feet out from under him and flipped him into the tree behind them hard enough to break a normal man's ribs. Before the kid could fully recover he followed up with a knee to the face and a roundhouse kick that would provide him with some distraction.  
  
While the kid's face was turned away he did the only thing he could think of that would make him effectively disappear. He jumped up and grabbing one of the lower branches of the tree quickly swung himself up into the limbs where he was concealed by the dense foliage.  
  
Below him he could see the kid roll to his feet and spin around with a look of anger on his face ready to face his no longer present opponent. Thomas watched the anger turn to surprise as the kid realized he was alone. He then saw him turn full circle scanning the landscape.  
  
"What the hell?" he heard the boy mutter.  
  
Thomas prayed the boy wouldn't look up. He didn't know exactly who or what the boy was, but he knew he wasn't prepared to deal with him. Yet.  
  
End Part 4 


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5  
  
The next day Thomas showed his pictures from the night before to Pete and the Kents and told them what had happened. All agreed that Thomas' unknown attacker was definitely Eric Summers. After they had filled him in on Summers' history Thomas became intrigued with several questions. How had Eric gotten his powers back, how was it that he was no longer incarcerated, and who was he working for if anyone.  
  
The answer to the last Thomas was willing to bet was Lionel Luthor, which would go a long way in explaining the first two. He borrowed the Kent's computer and sent a quick e-mail to Dr. Swann. When he finished, before he could get up, Martha Kent placed a breakfast plate in front of him containing bacon, eggs, sausage and toast.  
  
"I don't know when the last time you ate a home cooked meal was, but I would be a poor hostess if I didn't offer you at least something in way thanks for all of your help." Martha said.  
  
Thomas' expression softened slightly as he looked up and returned her smile.  
  
"No thanks necessary Mrs. Kent. Your family needs some help and I'm just in a position where I can provide it."  
  
"But you don't know us. You don't owe us anything."  
  
"I may not know you, but I know Dr. Swann and he seems to think Clark is important enough to go to a lot of trouble for. That's good enough for me. Besides, I also don't think you have to "owe" anyone anything to help them. If someone's in trouble you help them. It's just the right thing to do."  
  
"You sound a lot like my husband," replied Martha smiling.  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment, Mrs. Kent," Thomas said smiling back.  
  
"I just hope that's how she meant it," said Jonathan walking up and hugging his wife, "and it's Jonathan and Martha. I think going through this together should put us on a first name basis and I want to add my thanks to Martha's."  
  
"Thank you, Jonathan, I appreciate that, but like I said, no thanks are necessary. I'm just glad to help out. No family deserves to be torn apart."  
  
He took a bite of his breakfast and looked over at Martha.  
  
"I know someone back home that would love to trade recipes with you," he said.  
  
"Where is home?" Martha asked.  
  
Thomas got a far away look in his eyes before answering. "A long way away from here I'm afraid."  
  
Martha and Jonathan didn't miss the vagueness of his answer.  
  
"Will you be going home soon? I mean after all this is over with?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"Like Robert Frost said, "I have many miles before I sleep" Mr. K., I mean Jonathan. I was learning about communication systems before this thing started, but I'm not sure there's much left for Dr. Swann to teach me. It may be time to continue my schooling elsewhere."  
  
"What kind of schooling?" Martha asked.  
  
"Anything I can learn, Martha. Everything I can learn."  
  
"You're a professional student?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"Or a student in search of a profession, I'm not sure yet."  
  
Within the hour Swann had responded with interesting information, which helped to clear up some of the mystery. At a loss as to what to do with Eric Summers the government had sought help from the private sector in determining how Eric had gained and apparently lost his amazing abilities. Cadmus Labs had been the one to win the contract. Cadmus was a wholly owned subsidiary of LuthorCorp.  
  
Eric then was an agent of Lionel Luthor who had been sent to keep tabs on Chloe Sullivan who was herself another of Luthor's agents. Things were not looking good for Sullivan, Thomas thought.  
  
Thomas spent the next couple of days keeping track of Chloe's comings and goings, but made a point of staying far enough out of sight to hopefully not be detected by Eric. He was effective to a point because he had no more run ins with Eric, but unfortunately this didn't remain true with everyone else.  
  
Two days after his encounter with Eric, Thomas had an altercation with a large man in a business suit. He looked to be about 6 feet tall, around 200 lbs. and wore dark sunglasses along with his expensive looking suit. The man approached Thomas not long after he had parked near the Talon and while he was debating whether or not to enter the establishment.  
  
"Excuse me sir, but could you step out of the car?" the man asked.  
  
Thomas looked at the man for a moment before getting out of the Mustang, but waited until he was standing beside the car before answering.  
  
"Can I help you with something?" Thomas asked.  
  
"Yeah," replied the man, "I need to see some I.D."  
  
"Is there a particular reason why?"  
  
"Because I asked you to."  
  
"Listen," Thomas said, "are you some kind of cop or something?"  
  
"Or something." The man answered. "Now show me you I.D."  
  
"I think I need to see your I.D. first," Thomas said.  
  
The man looked at him for a moment and when he found that his stare wouldn't work had simply opened his jacket and showed Thomas the gun on his side.  
  
"Is that I.D. enough for you?" the man asked.  
  
"Your gun's in a holster," Thomas said.  
  
"Yeah, so?" The man replied.  
  
The man suddenly felt like he'd been kicked by a mule as Thomas' punch dropped him to the ground.  
  
Thomas bent down and casually removed the gun from the man's holster. He ejected the clip and removed the slide before dropping all of the parts into the nearby post office box.  
  
"Threatening someone with a holstered gun is like threatening them with a gun you left at home." Thomas said. "And you know what else?"  
  
The man dumbly shook his head still somewhat stunned from the blow.  
  
"Threatening me with a gun period is never a good idea."  
  
Thomas hit the man again hard enough so that he was unconscious before his head hit the ground. He quickly checked the man's pockets and then took his wallet and cell phone before getting back into the Mustang and pulling out.  
  
He drove to the Kent Farm where he met Martha just arriving home. He joined her and Jonathan in the kitchen before going though the items he had taken. The wallet provided them with the name "Joseph Steele" and a Metropolis address. The only other thing of interest was a parking stub for the LuthorCorp parking lot. The phone had a few numbers programmed in and Thomas copied them down to send to Dr. Swann to check out.  
  
Suddenly, Thomas' cell phone started ringing.  
  
"Hello," he answered.  
  
"Hunter?" a man's voice asked.  
  
"This is he," Thomas replied.  
  
"This is Phil at the "Midnight Oil." Listen, that kid you were asking about was here with some other guys a little while ago. Said they had some business with Mr. Edge. He wasn't in, but they said they'd come back in a few hours. That good enough for the money you were talking about."  
  
"More than good enough, Phil. If you can keep him there until I arrive I'll even double it."  
  
"You got it," Phil replied before hanging up.  
  
Thomas was informing the Kents of the conversation when Pete burst in.  
  
"I think Chloe's in trouble," he said sounding out of breath.  
  
"Hold on, Pete," Jonathan said. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Lana called me this morning. She said that she overheard a phone conversation of Chloe's yesterday. Chloe is supposed to meet with someone this afternoon in Metropolis. Lana thought it was suspicious because when she asked Chloe what she would be up to today Chloe made a big deal about needing privacy to do some research at the Torch for some article she was writing. Then a little while ago I was over at the gas station and I heard a couple of out of town dudes talking. They said something about getting some girl's notebooks and taking them to Metropolis. One of them was on the phone and told whomever he was talking to that the job was over and they had been ordered to head back to Metropolis and that loose ends would be tied up there."  
  
"Ok," Thomas said, "we need to find Sullivan and tell her what we know so she'll stay put."  
  
"Bigger problem," Martha said. "I passed Chloe getting on the Interstate onramp on the way back from deliveries a little while ago."  
  
"If I leave now maybe I can head her off," Thomas said starting for the door.  
  
"Not alone you won't," Jonathan said stopping him. "You're forgetting the phone call about Clark. If he shows back up at that place while you're still in Metropolis you're going to need me. I'm going with you."  
  
Thomas started to argue, but knew that what Jonathan said made sense.  
  
"Ok, come on."  
  
"I'm going too," said Pete.  
  
"Me too," added Martha.  
  
"It's too dangerous," Thomas and Jonathan said in unison.  
  
"Chloe's my friend guys. So is Clark. I'll let you two handle the tough stuff, but I may be able to provide some distraction for Clark if nothing else."  
  
"I can help with that too," Martha said.  
  
"No, Martha," Jonathan said. "You both have a point, but I can't risk you too. Please, for me, stay here where I know you're safe."  
  
"Alright, Jonathan," Martha finally relented, "but take Pete. He might be able to help like he said."  
  
"Ok," Thomas said, "come on, we need to hurry."  
  
*******************************  
  
A couple of miles before they got to Smallville and the Interstate onramp Thomas noticed two motorcycles pull out of a side road and begin closing fast.  
  
As the motorcycles got closer he saw one of the riders pull out a machine pistol and open fire. The bullets slammed into the back window, and Pete and Jonathan both ducked down. They had little to worry about though, as while the glass showed evidence from the impact of the bullets it did not break.  
  
"Bulletproof glass," was Thomas' only comment.  
  
The rider was surprised by the ineffectiveness of his shots for an instant, but quickly recovered and moved to redirect his fire to the rear wheels of the car. This was his second mistake. The first was not realizing that the Mustang had slowed slightly allowing the two motorcycles to get closer.  
  
The car suddenly braked and the rear end begin to veer to the left turning the car slightly sideways as the driver fought to control the skid. The nearer rider trying to focus on aiming his gun failed to react in time and slammed into the rear of the car. He was dislodged from his motorcycle and hit the back window before rolling off the side of the car as it continued to skid.  
  
The second rider had more time to react than the first and was able to brake and miss his partner as he rolled onto the road. The second rider steered to the left to pass the Mustang in the other lane and he too brought his gun up to aim at the front tires this time. As he began to pull parallel with the rear of the Mustang, Thomas took his foot off of the brake and briefly tapped the gas and then pulled the emergency brake while jerking the steering wheel to the left. The front end of the Mustang swung suddenly in the opposite direction and slapped the motorcycle sending the second rider over its hood and into the far lane.  
  
Bringing the Mustang back under control Thomas steered around the second rider and continued on his former path.  
  
"Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"Old reruns of the Dukes of Hazzard," Thomas answered before thumbing a control on the dash.  
  
The interior was suddenly filled with the sound of a dial tone.  
  
"911" Thomas said aloud.  
  
The dial tone changed to the sound of numbers being dialed then the ringing of a phone.  
  
"911 dispatch," answered a woman's voice.  
  
"There's been a motorcycle wreck on I-35 near mile marker 83. Two motorcycles and two riders involved. They need medical attention."  
  
"May I have your name sir?" the dispatcher asked.  
  
Thomas' only reply was to disconnect the line as the Mustang continued on to Metropolis.  
  
********************  
  
Arriving in Metropolis, Thomas headed straight for LuthorCorp headquarters. He pulled up out front, jumped out of the car and stopped the other two before they could exit.  
  
"No, guys. This is more my element. You two head over to "Midnight Oil" and see if Clark shows up."  
  
"Thomas," Jonathan said, "Luthor probably has an army of gunmen in there."  
  
"Not in a public place. He might risk a single murder alone in his office, but not an army hunting someone through the hallways. Trust me. I have some experience in this kind of thing. I'll be fine. You two can do the most good waiting for Clark. Having to watch out for the two of you would more likely get me killed than be of help."  
  
Thomas and Jonathan stared at each other for a second before Jonathan gave in.  
  
"Ok, but call my cell phone if you need help," Jonathan said.  
  
"I will," Thomas answered. He gave Jonathan the directions to the club and headed inside LuthorCorp.  
  
He walked up to the security station improvising a plan as he went. Fortunately, the lobby seemed to be deserted for the moment except for the two guards.  
  
"Excuse me," he addressed one of the guards, "can you direct me to Lionel Luthor's office?"  
  
"Do you have an appointment?" the guard asked.  
  
Still smiling Thomas hit him hard, knocking him unconscious. Before the other guard could react Thomas reached across the desk and grabbed his arm in a vice like grip while applying pressure to a nerve center in the arm. The guard let out a short scream before Thomas' other hand closed around his throat.  
  
"Did a young blond girl come through here a few minutes ago? Think fast or I'll break your arm."  
  
"Yeah, about 20 minutes ago," the guard choked out.  
  
"Where was she headed?"  
  
"Lionel Luthor's office."  
  
"Which is where?"  
  
"51st floor, corner facing the Daily Planet building."  
  
"If you're lying to me I'll be back. Do you understand that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Thomas slammed the man's head down on the desk hard and then hit him also knocking him unconscious. He ran toward the elevator and prayed he was in time.  
  
*********************************  
  
Chloe Sullivan had never been so afraid in her life. She felt the gun press against her temple and was waiting for the man beside her to pull the trigger when she heard the door open behind her.  
  
"Good," said a calm voice, "I caught you all together."  
  
"Who the hell are you!" yelled Morris jumping to his feet.  
  
"Exterminator. I heard there were some roaches up here."  
  
Morris brought his gun around to aim at the intruder and Thomas pivoted into Morris' instep and bringing his left hand down onto Morris' wrist he simultaneously brought the heel of his hand up into Morris' elbow.  
  
Luthor heard an audible *snap* and Morris screamed as he dropped his gun.  
  
Still holding onto Morris' wrist Thomas next slammed his right elbow into the man's face breaking his nose before throwing him into the wall where he left a bloody streak as he slid unconscious to the floor.  
  
"I really don't like it when people point guns at me" Thomas said staring down at Morris' unconscious form. "So," he continued without turning around "unless you want your tennis game seriously impaired you'd better keep your hand off of that desk drawer, Lionel."  
  
Lionel's hand froze halfway to the desk drawer that he had been reaching for.  
  
"Who are you young man?"  
  
"A concerned citizen."  
  
"A concerned citizen that would seem to be sticking his nose in places it doesn't belong. Let me guess, you drove here in a Mustang didn't you."  
  
"You're well informed. Eric let you in on any other secrets?"  
  
If Lionel was startled by this comment he didn't show it.  
  
Turning to Chloe, Thomas asked, "Are you Ok?"  
  
"Ye-ah," she managed to stammer out.  
  
"Good, we're leaving. But don't worry Luthor." Thomas said turning back to Lionel, "I'm planning on coming back sometime in the future so trust me, you won't get lonely."  
  
"Do you honestly think that either of you is going to make it out of this building?" Lionel laughed.  
  
His laughter stopped as Thomas stepped toward him, pulled him out of his chair and held him a couple of inches off the ground. Thomas brought Lionel's face close to his own and Lionel, looking into those cold blue- gray eyes, suddenly felt something he had not felt since he was a child. He felt a bone chilling fear. Fear like that of a monster that came knocking on your window in the middle of the night. That fear intensified with Thomas' next words.  
  
"You seem to be mistaken about a few things Luthor. I'm not trapped in here with you and your hired thugs. You're trapped in here with me."  
  
End Part 5 


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6  
  
Thomas threw Luthor back against the wall where he lost his balance and fell to the ground.  
  
"Don't forget, Lionel," Thomas said pointing his finger at the kneeling man, "I'll be back one of these days."  
  
Without a backwards glance Thomas grabbed the notebooks off of the desk and then Chloe's arm and left the office.  
  
Out in the hallway heading for the stairwell Chloe finally seemed to come to herself.  
  
"I don't know who you are mister, but you just gained a friend for life."  
  
"I've seen how you treat your friends Sullivan, I think I'll pass on that honor."  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Chloe demanded shaking off her shock in favor of anger.  
  
"Why were you in Luthor's office to begin with?"  
  
Startled by the sudden change in topic Chloe paused for a moment before answering.  
  
"I'm not sure what you mean."  
  
"It's a simple question," Thomas said as he opened the stairwell door, "you answer it and you'll know the answer to your first question."  
  
Chloe felt her face redden and she began to get even more angry.  
  
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Chloe said heatedly. "Hey," she said suddenly noticing where they were going, "why can't we take the elevator? We are on the 51st floor you know."  
  
"Sure, Sullivan," Thomas said heading down the stairs and never giving her a second look, "You're in a building owned and ran by a man who just tried to have you killed. When you've just escaped what could be the better strategy than sealing yourself up in a box and making it easy for him catch you again. "  
  
Thomas adopted an upper class English accent and continued, "Damned rude if one has to work at arranging a nasty accident. It's the good guest that helps her host out."  
  
"Well you're just a sarcastic bastard aren't you?"  
  
"Beats betraying people I call friends just so I can see my name in print."  
  
"I told you it's not like that. You don't understand."  
  
"Then enlighten me Sullivan. Which part isn't true? That you were working for Luthor or that he promised you a column in the Planet if you investigated one of your friends."  
  
"Clark wasn't one of my friends when I agreed to this," Chloe stated sounding somewhat petulant.  
  
"Oh, I see, then it's perfectly acceptable to arrange for him to be killed or worse so you can see your name in print," Thomas said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders  
  
"You're twisting my words."  
  
"The only 'twisting' being done around here is by you, Sullivan with that knife you carry around to bury between people's shoulder blades."  
  
"I wasn't investigating Clark for Luthor you moron," Chloe yelled, "or did it escape your little simple minded attention that Luthor was going to have me killed because I was holding out on him."  
  
"Holding out implies that you were working for him, but broke the deal, Sullivan, not that you weren't working for him at all. And it still doesn't explain the column in the Planet."  
  
"Ok, Ok, I agreed to work for him originally, but I changed my mind before I told him anything major. I wouldn't have betrayed Clark. No matter what he did to me. I was just playing Luthor to get more information."  
  
"Uh huh, I could see that you were doing a wonderful job of playing him when I walked in up there."  
  
"Why you arrogant son of a.I was doing just fine up until that point thank you. I knew he didn't trust me. That's why I put everything in writing rather than on a computer."  
  
"Oh, yeah," Thomas said holding the notebooks up, "that idea really worked out well. I especially liked the way you fooled his hitman into putting the gun to your head. It was probably the only place you could think of where the bullet couldn't do a whole lot of damage."  
  
"Give me those, they're mine," Chloe said reaching for the notebooks.  
  
"Sorry, Sullivan," Thomas said moving the notebooks out of her reach, "I'll need these to start the fire for the diversion."  
  
"Fire?! Those are my notebooks you idiot, you can't burn them."  
  
"Don't worry about it, Sullivan. They're useless anyway. Full of nonsense and poor deductive reasoning."  
  
"It is not nonsense and there's nothing wrong with my deductive reasoning."  
  
A door opened below them and two security guards ran through scanning the stairwell. Before they could react Thomas launched himself down the stairs feet first catching one of the guards in the chest and sending him crashing into the stairwell wall. The other one went for his gun, but was stopped by a spinning crescent kick that caught him in the jaw and bounced his head off the door he had just entered through.  
  
Continuing on down the stairs as if nothing had happened Thomas picked up the conversation without missing a beat. "Sure," he said condescendingly, "you think Clark Kent is some kind of superman based on the ramblings of a few nutcases with a grudge and a willing dupe in the form of a high school newspaper editor and you call that sound reasoning."  
  
"I was not a dupe, and people have been effected in even more amazing ways than that by the meteor rocks. I got multiple sources, smartass, and they all agree on what Clark can do."  
  
"Multiple sources, huh? Gee, I didn't realize I was working with a real newspaper reporter. Those would all be the aforementioned nutcases with grudges right?"  
  
"They may hold grudges, but I verified their stories with a third party which is what is outlined in those notebooks," Chloe replied smugly.  
  
"Third party? And just where did you find this 'third party'?"  
  
"Justin Gaines, smartass. He was no where near the others so they couldn't have cooked up their stories together."  
  
"Good to see that you've finally settled on a nickname for me," Thomas said sardonically. "Let's see, Justin Gaines, Justin Gaines. Remind me again which asylum is he in?"  
  
"It doesn't matter where he is you idiot, only that his story matches the others. Are you trying to be deliberately obtuse?"  
  
"No, it's just so easy to poke holes in your logic that it helps to pass the time as we go down these stairs. And I thought you had decided to call me 'smartass.' If you keep changing it I may not come when you call."  
  
Infuriated beyond belief Chloe pulled her fist back and threw a punch at the back of her tormentor's head. He caught her fist in his hand without even fully turning around. He turned loose of her fist as he finally turned to face her.  
  
"Now that you've gotten over your shock from upstairs Sullivan we need to get serious and you need to listen carefully to every word I say. Do you hear those sirens?"  
  
For the first time Chloe became aware of the distant sound of sirens coming from outside the building.  
  
"Luthor called the police. He knows it all comes down to his word versus ours and he's banking on us being detained long enough for him to arrange some sort of 'accident'. We need to create a diversion so we can get past them and to your car. Are you with me so far?"  
  
"Hold it," Chloe said shaking her head as his words from before suddenly came back to her, "all that stuff you said to me coming down the stairs was just to get me over the shock of almost being killed?"  
  
"Yes, it's been shown that if someone has something to focus on during a traumatic event they can continue to function at a normal level without shock causing them to shut down. Anger just seemed like the best approach with you."  
  
"So you don't think my deductive reasoning sucks," Chloe said her face starting to brighten.  
  
"No, I still think it sucks, I just didn't want to have to carry you down the stairs with you getting all emotional on me if I didn't have to."  
  
Chloe's smile faded into a hate filled grimace.  
  
"Go to Hell," she finally said.  
  
"Whatever, just make sure you follow my lead unless you want to end up in a juvenile detention cell trying to avoid becoming someone's date while waiting on Luthor to have someone stick a knife between your ribs."  
  
"Bastard."  
  
"Inconsistency is the sign of a disorganized mind, Sullivan. Come on," he said gesturing down the stairs.  
  
The duo reached the bottom of the stairs just as the police arrived. Thomas took a lighter from his pocket and set the two notebooks on fire. Holding them aloft he triggered the fire alarm and the sprinklers. He then began peeling the scar off of the side of his face.  
  
Chloe turned to face him just as he disposed of the last of the scar. "What the..who the hell are you?"  
  
"Like I said before, a concerned citizen. Now let's wait for some company."  
  
When the stairwell began to fill with people they joined the crowd heading for the exits. The police who were entering the building attempted in vain to contain the crowd, but were forced to allow everyone to exit because of the fire alarms.  
  
"Come on," Thomas said to Chloe pulling her outside.  
  
"Are you some kind of secret agent or something?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," was the only answer he provided.  
  
"Where are you parked?" he asked.  
  
"Two blocks down in a public parking lot. The parking garage was full. Were you serious about the secret agent thing?"  
  
"Good, let's go," Thomas said ignoring her question.  
  
****************************  
  
A few minutes later they reached Chloe's VW and Thomas' phone started ringing.  
  
"Yes," he answered.  
  
"Hunter, it's Phil. The kid just walked in the door."  
  
"I'll be there in 15 minutes. If another kid and an older man come in help them anyway you can, but otherwise don't interfere and you'll triple your money. Got it?"  
  
"Got it," Phil replied and hung up.  
  
"Ok, Sullivan you head back home and don't answer your door. I doubt Luthor will try anything else since this blew up in his face, but I would strongly suggest no more contact with him." Shaking his head he continued, "I mean come on. A teenaged superman?"  
  
"Hey," Chloe said, "it's happened before. A kid in our school got superpowers."  
  
"Yeah, and those kind of things just happen all of the time. Listen kid, start writing about pep rallies and school elections. Leave the science fiction to the novelists. Gotta go."  
  
Thomas headed into the street and stopped a taxi. A moment later he was gone.  
  
Chloe sat stunned in her car, the events of the day starting to catch up with her. Hearing the sounds of approaching fire trucks Chloe took one last look back at LuthorCorp and decided that the stranger was right in one sense. She didn't really care about Clark at the moment. It just didn't matter. She was alive. But, one thought crept involuntarily into her mind as she started her car.  
  
"Bastard," Chloe said to herself. "Pep rallies? He's got to be kidding."  
  
**********************  
  
Fifteen minutes later Thomas arrived at the "Midnight Oil." He found Jonathan and Pete standing beside the Mustang staring menacingly toward three guys standing just outside the main entrance. The three men in question didn't seem intimidated by their stares.  
  
"What's going on?" asked Thomas trotting up to the car.  
  
"Those three guys won't let us in. We told them we just wanted to see Clark for a minute and they could send him outside if they wanted to, but they wouldn't go for it."  
  
"Well, lets see if I can be a bit more convincing." Thomas said turning around and heading for the entrance.  
  
The three men straightened when he approached and stood like a fence blocking the entrance to the club.  
  
"Hey guys," Thomas said holding his hands up in front of him palms out to show he didn't have a weapon, "I'm not looking for any trouble. We just need to deliver a message to the young, dark-haired kid that came with you. Send him out here or let us go in there, it doesn't matter. After we're through we'll be on our way."  
  
One of the men spoke up stepping forward. "Like I told your friends, you need to be on your way now. I was nice before and didn't force the issue, but now I'm beginning to think that you're all too stupid to take a hint."  
  
He moved his coat aside and showed Thomas the gun he wore in a shoulder holster. "Now do you go or do we shoot you and toss you in the dumpster?"  
  
Thomas heaved a sigh and dropped his head beginning to shake it. "More guns in holsters," he muttered.  
  
"What?" the man asked a second before his head was snapped back by a punch that dropped him to the ground unconscious.  
  
Before the other two could react Thomas delivered a snap kick to the face of one of them and drove his stiffened fingers into the neck of the other one causing him to drop the hand that was reaching for his holster. Thomas followed that up with a left cross that knocked the guy's head into a support pillar and dropped him to the ground to join his two friends in slumber.  
  
Turning back to his companions Thomas called, "I think the coast is clear, guys."  
  
Entering the club the three found themselves face to face with six men. The six had turned to face the door when it opened and any that weren't on their feet before stood up when Thomas and his companions entered the room.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" one of the large men said.  
  
Thomas' gaze swept the room assessing the situation. He identified a short slim Asian man as probably the most dangerous person present and kept his focus on him as he answered the original speaker.  
  
"Friends of one of your companions. We're not looking for trouble. We just need to see him and then we'll leave."  
  
"How'd you get past he guys outside?" the man demanded.  
  
"They were understanding of our dilemma and let us in."  
  
"Bullsh.!"  
  
"Ah, ah," Thomas interrupted shaking his finger, "there's a minor in the house," indicating Pete. "Which brings me back to my original question."  
  
"Well, here's your answer," the man said striding forward and throwing a punch at Thomas' head.  
  
Thomas blocked the punch and then grabbing the offered arm stepped into his attacker's instep and brought him crashing to the ground. Before any of the others could react the small Asian man suddenly appeared and delivered a kick to Thomas' body that he was only partially able to block by twisting to the side.  
  
Without let up the Asian pressed his attack throwing various punches and kicks with deft skill giving Thomas only the opportunity to defend rather than attack. Seeing most of his kicks and punches blocked, the Asian begin to pick up the tempo of his attack, which Thomas moved to match and soon they were engaged in a lethal dance that left their audience frozen in place unable to do anything else but watch.  
  
Thomas ignored the serpent strikes to his shoulders and kicks to his shins and focused on finding an opening in the Asian's attack. Thomas had seen his opponent's surprise as he had moved to match each change in discipline that the Asian had attempted in order to trip him up. The rapid changes finally proved the Asian's undoing as he became used to Thomas' proficiency in returning a style of attack with the same style's defense.  
  
The Asian launched into the tettsui-to expecting a response in kind and totally missed the western style uppercut that rocked him back on his feet. One good move became two as Thomas landed a left hook and then three as he followed up by dropping into a spinning leg sweep bringing the Asian to the ground. The fight was ended as Thomas completed the spin by bringing the heel of his foot into the side of the Asian's head even before he had completed reached the ground effectively rendering him unconscious.  
  
"Nice moves," said a voice from behind him. "Want to try them on me?"  
  
The hairs on the back of Thomas' neck stood straight up and he instantly knew the identity of the speaker. Turning around he verified his guess and nodded in greeting as he spoke the newcomer's name.  
  
"Clark."  
  
End Part 6 


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7  
  
"You seem to know me, but I don't know you," Clark said. "Let me guess, you're with the old fossil and the junior sidekick over there."  
  
"If you mean your father and your best friend, then yes, I am."  
  
"He's not my father, " Clark said getting an evil scowl on his face. "Trust me, you wouldn't want to meet my father."  
  
"Maybe not, but he's the only father you've got. A lot of people don't even have that."  
  
"Spare me the bleeding heart rap," Clark said stepping closer. "I was just a pack mule to keep his farm going."  
  
"Sure, that's why he spent time with you going fishing and playing catch and your mother held you when you cried and made you your favorite foods," Thomas replied circling around and keeping his distance from Clark.  
  
"Alright," interrupted Jonathan, "I think that's about enough."  
  
Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal box. Suddenly he screamed and dropped it to the ground where it lay glowing red and smoking slightly from the fresh weld along its seam.  
  
"You really are a one trick pony, aren't you old man?" Clark said with a sneer on his face. "Did you really think that I was stupid enough to fall for the same trick twice?"  
  
"No," Thomas said, "he was just hoping to God he could get his son back any way he could."  
  
Clark whirled around on Thomas and said hotly, "I told you, I'm not his son!"  
  
"Then why did you run away when you hurt him and Martha. It couldn't have been because you cared could it?"  
  
"I didn't run, I left. I wanted to finally be free. To be happy. No more orders from him and no more orders from that stupid voice in my head. I wanted to finally be my own man. Do what I want to do when I want to do it."  
  
"You want to be free? You want to be happy?" Thomas asked. "Well, first you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and lose the attitude. You're still a slave. If you want to be free then lose the ring." Thomas added pointing to Clark's hand. "Until you can do that you're just so much talk controlled by a lifeless piece of rock."  
  
"I'm not a slave to the ring!" Clark shouted. "It just brings out the real me without all of the guilt baggage attached."  
  
"If you were truly free you wouldn't need the ring to get rid of the guilt. You'd own your responsibilities and deal with them."  
  
"You don't know what you're talking about. You have no idea of the pain I've dealt with in my life."  
  
"Pain can either break you or make you unbreakable, Clark. You decide. That ring only keeps it at bay temporarily. "  
  
The two had been circling each other slowly, almost unconsciously. Clark suddenly blurred forward and grabbed Thomas. Thomas instantly tried to shift and use Clark's strength and momentum against him, but found he couldn't move the teen.  
  
"Saigo," Clark said indicating the unconscious Asian, "got me with that a couple of times when we first met. No more." He picked Thomas up and threw him against a table several feet away. Thomas tucked and rolled as he landed and came up in a crouch.  
  
"Not such a tough guy now are you?" Clark asked walking toward him.  
  
"We both know there's no way I can beat you Clark. It's not even a contest. It's just some cruel game the school bully plays. Is that what your "freedom" has made you? A bully? Someone who doesn't take what he wants because he wants it, but because he enjoys hurting others because they are smaller and weaker? Then maybe you're right and your "father" would be proud."  
  
Clark growled and crossed the room in a nanosecond slamming into Thomas and sending him backwards into the far wall.  
  
"Shut up!" Clark screamed. "You don't know what it feels like to be me and have to be in control every single minute of my life. Every. Single. Minute! I could kill you just by looking at you. I could snap someone in half if I'm just a bit distracted one day."  
  
"No, you're right," Thomas said climbing to his feet, "I don't have any idea what that is like. No one does. No one on this entire planet knows what you have to go through and for that I'm sorry. But it doesn't give you an excuse to hurt others or do what you want damning the consequences. There's a right and a wrong in the universe, Clark, and the difference isn't that hard to tell."  
  
"What do you truly want out of life, Clark?" Thomas continued. "And before you answer that answer another one first because it might make that first one a bit clearer. What if anything in life do you feel is worth dying for?"  
  
Beginning to walk forward toward Clark he added, "And one last one. If you had the power to do anything what would you do?"  
  
Clark stared into Thomas' eyes and felt the anger begin to drain out of him to be replaced by shame. "Stop people like me," he whispered.  
  
"You're the only one with that power, Clark. So, stop."  
  
Jonathan walked up to Clark's side and laying his hand on Clark's shoulder said, "Let me take that ring, son."  
  
"No!" Thomas said forcefully. "It'll always be an escape route unless he deals with it now. If he truly wants to stop like he says then he needs to be the one to do it. He needs to take the ring off himself."  
  
Thomas stepped in front of Clark and simply reached out his hand palm up.  
  
Clark met his eyes for a long moment and the two seemed to communicate silently. Finally he grabbed the ring and slid it off of his finger. He held it in front of his face for a moment looking at the stone and then dropped it into Thomas' outstretched hand.  
  
Almost immediately Thomas could see the change come over Clark as his eyes took on a look of surprise and he stumbled losing his balance and would have fallen if not for Jonathan. Clark began to cry and Jonathan held him tightly to his chest repeating over and over again, "It'll be all right. Your home now."  
  
"How touching," said a voice from behind them.  
  
Thomas spun around and was confronted by a couple of older men who had entered the room. One of them was tall, muscular, with graying, blond hair and an expensive suit. He held a gun pointed straight at Thomas.  
  
"Morgan Edge, I presume," Thomas said.  
  
"You have me at a disadvantage," Edge replied.  
  
"Yeah," Thomas replied, "that happens a lot."  
  
Edge got a slight smile on his lips at that. "You have guts, kid. Stupid as hell, but guts. I take it from the Waltons moment we're witnessing here that our junior enforcer has had a crisis of conscience. I can't allow that you know."  
  
"Not a lot you can do about it," Thomas said matter of factly.  
  
"I can kill you all," Edge replied conversationally.  
  
"You could try," Thomas replied his voice growing eerily cold along with his eyes.  
  
Edge hesitated for a moment at the change in Thomas' manner and pulled the trigger a half second after he had originally intended. This was all Thomas needed to move to one side and throw the heavy glass ashtray that he had palmed from one of the tables that hadn't been knocked over.  
  
The ashtray took Edge full in the forehead snapping his head back and causing him to loose his grip on his gun and almost on his consciousness as he stumbled backwards. The other men went for their guns in that instant only to have them forcibly removed from their hands and themselves hurtled backwards into the walls by an unseen force. When everything came to a stop Clark stood alone in the middle of the room in front of Thomas.  
  
He turned to Thomas and said, "Thank you. I don't know if you realize exactly how much you did for me, but thank you."  
  
"Your very welcome, Clark," Thomas replied.  
  
"You took an awful chance though. I could have hurt you pretty badly."  
  
"I didn't take any chances, Clark," Thomas said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thin metal case like the one Jonathan had earlier. He handed the case to Clark. "I've met your parents. If they raised you I knew you would do the right thing."  
  
********************************  
  
That evening the Kents were together as a family for the first time in several weeks. There was a lot of laughing and crying and lecturing involved, but after awhile things settled down and everyone began to turn in for bed. Clark and Thomas sat together in Clark's "fortress" in the barn talking.  
  
"But you had the Kryptonite. Why didn't you just stop me when you had the chance?"  
  
"It would have been a temporary fix at best Clark. You had to stop yourself, or you probably wouldn't have come home even on your own. You weren't under the influence of the Red Kryptonite when you decided to leave after all."  
  
"No, just a whole lot of stupidity and self pity," Clark said glumly.  
  
"Hey," a voice from the stairs said, "if you weren't those things you wouldn't be a teenager."  
  
Clark and Thomas turned to see Pete and Lana standing there.  
  
"I think I should turn in now, Clark. I have to start back to New York in the morning."  
  
As he passed Pete he addressed him while nodding toward Lana and Clark, "I bet you probably have a lot of things you need to take care of tomorrow too, don't you, Pete?"  
  
"Yeah," Pete said laughing, "I'll be going in just a few minutes."  
  
When Thomas had left Pete turned to Clark. "I did just want to stop for a minute, Clark, and remind you that if you needed to talk later you know I'm always there."  
  
"Thanks, Pete, I appreciate that, but I think that Lana and I are long overdue for a rather involved conversation right now."  
  
"Say no more, buddy. I'll catch you tomorrow."  
  
A strangled gasp of breath made both turn around. Standing near the loft's window was Eric holding Lana from behind with his hand wrapped around her throat.  
  
End - Part 7 


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8  
  
"I just love old home week, don't you guys?" asked Eric.  
  
"Eric," Clark said in surprise, "what are you doing here?!"  
  
"I just had a little chat with Lionel Luthor. I was going to kill him do you believe that? I had never killed anyone before, but that evil bastard pushed me right to the edge, you know. He promised me a whole lot of money though and convinced me that the real source of my anger was you Kent. This whole thing started with you and he said you had all of the answers I was looking for. I settled for breaking his arms and legs. After tonight I just may work myself up to still killing him, though, because I'm definitely not going to leave here without a little blood on my hands. I was coming over here to grab one of your parents, hoping to draw you out, and then I saw little miss Lana here coming into the barn. I had no idea you were home. Now she's just icing on the cake.  
  
"Turn loose of her, Eric" Clark said quietly.  
  
"I don't think so Clark. I think you need to lose something like I lost something. You need to know how it feels when someone messes in your life uninvited."  
  
"Careful, Clark," Pete said. "He's got his powers back."  
  
Clark nodded his head briefly still looking at Eric.  
  
"I wasn't making a request, Eric. Turn her loose. Now."  
  
Pete looked at Clark when he spoke. This wasn't the Clark Kent he knew. The shy peacemaker. This was someone who was used to being obeyed. Someone who could make you obey. Turning his gaze back toward Eric, Pete caught a look that made him think that Eric could see the same thing.  
  
"Say goodbye to your girlfriend, Clark."  
  
Eric had been looking Clark in the eyes when he began to choke Lana. For a second he thought they glowed. The next thing he knew incredible pain lanced though the arm he was using to throttle Lana. Screaming he dropped her to the ground and staggered back clutching at his arm.  
  
Smoke was issuing from his jacket and his sleeve had been cut through leaving a gaping wound in his arm. The pain was horrific, but the wound was already starting to close.  
  
In a deadly calm voice Clark spoke to Pete without taking his eyes off Eric.  
  
"Take Lana and get out of here Pete."  
  
Lana had quickly stumbled away from Eric when he dropped her and was now rubbing her neck trying to catch her breath. She looked up when Clark said this.  
  
"We can't leave you, Clark!"  
  
"I'll be Ok, Lana. Eric and I just need to have a little discussion about power and responsibility. Get her out of here, Pete. I'll be fine. I promise."  
  
Pete didn't wait for the conversation to begin again. He grabbed Lana's arm and started pulling her down the stairs.  
  
"Come on Lana. He's in more danger if he's distracted by us than if he's by himself."  
  
Lana opened her mouth to reply and then shut it. She ran behind him out the door no longer resisting.  
  
"How far do you think they'll get, Clark? You obviously have a neat little power there, but I think you forget who has super speed here. "  
  
In the blink of an eye Eric disappeared as he began to accelerate toward the door of the barn. He never made it. Fifteen feet from the door Eric learned what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object.  
  
He was close-lined while moving at just under the speed of sound and the impact knocked him on his back.  
  
"No, Eric," Clark said calmly looking down at the stunned boy, "I haven't forgotten at all."  
  
************************************  
  
Lana and Pete had gotten almost to the house when she pulled him to a stop.  
  
"What can Clark do against Eric, Pete? Eric hurt him once before. How is now different?"  
  
Pete's reply was interrupted by Eric's extremely loud and involuntary exit through the wall of the barn. He bounced several times before coming to rest at the edge of the pasture.  
  
"Oh, I don't know." Pete said. "I'm sure he'll think of something. I just hope his father doesn't kill him for making that hole in the barn."  
  
He grabbed Lana's arm and continued pulling the stunned girl toward the house. They ran into Thomas who was coming back out.  
  
"What the hell is going on? I heard some kind of crash."  
  
"It's Eric," Pete told him, "He and Clark are fighting out behind the barn."  
  
Thomas stood frozen in thought for a second and then wheeled around heading back into the house.  
  
"Stay in the house," he called over his shoulder, "I've got an idea."  
  
********************************  
  
"Give it up, Eric." Clark continued in that same deadly calm voice as he walked toward the boy struggling to his feet. "I'm not sure how you got your powers back, but trust me. They're last year's model. You don't stand a chance."  
  
"Well, you seem to have gotten all kinds of powers since we last met. Doesn't change anything though. I'm still going to kill you."  
  
Eric screamed and launched himself at Clark who suddenly was no longer there. Eric spun around trying to find his foe and caught a right hook full in the face. He went down. Hard. 50 yards from where he had been standing taking several fence posts with him.  
  
He slowly got to his feet shaking his head trying to regain his senses only to be hit in the chest full force by a steel hard shoulder moving at mach two.  
  
This time when he tried to get up he felt a weight place itself between his shoulder blades and he was forced to lie flat on the ground.  
  
"No, Eric," he heard Clark say. "I don't want to hurt you and I don't want to humiliate you, but I won't let you keep this fight going. Stay down."  
  
Eric remained still breathing loudly for a moment and then suddenly jerked sideways dislodging Clark's foot from his back and rolling to his feet.  
  
"I'm not sure how you're able to do this Clark, but I'm not stopping until one of us is dead."  
  
"Eric, what's wrong with you? You're not behaving rationally."  
  
"A freaking bomb went off in my head a few hours ago, Clark. That kind of thing brings a whole new perspective to life."  
  
He slammed into Clark sending them both back toward the barn. Clark grabbed Eric's shirt and managed to throw him backwards and away from him.  
  
"Eric, I don't want to hurt you," Clark pleaded.  
  
"But I want to hurt you!" Eric screamed.  
  
"Ahem, perhaps I can break this stalemate," said a voice from behind Eric.  
  
Spinning around he saw the stranger from a few days ago.  
  
"You!" he shouted.  
  
Thomas stood there holding Toby the old barn cat in one arm and a hand scythe in the other.  
  
"Here, catch," he said as he tossed Toby to Eric with one hand and launched the scythe into the air with the other.  
  
Eric caught the cat out of instinct, but immediately began to feel an intense pain run through his body. That's when he noticed the meteor rock tied around the cat's neck. Before he could react to it he was distracted by a shower of sparks and a sharp snapping sound from above. Looking up he saw that the scythe had severed the electric line running to the barn and one end was falling toward him.  
  
The electricity arched through his body for an instant and he dropped the cat, which let out a startled meow and launched itself toward the barn almost before its paws touched the ground.  
  
Eric lay on the ground twitching for an instant and then fell unconscious.  
  
"What did you do to him?" Clark asked walking toward Eric's still smoking body.  
  
"Well, if I read the report right I believe he'll wake up with a taste for mice and the ability to create furballs. He shouldn't be invulnerable anymore though."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"When I first found out who he was I took the opportunity to capitalize on a direct link to the LuthorCorp system through their watchdog program on the Torch's computer. It was a bit tricky, but I was able to track down a report by a Dr. Stephens outlining his theory on how Eric's DNA was malleable and how he could adopt the DNA of others in the presence of a meteor rock and massive amounts of electricity. Since he's unconscious I would say the good doctor may have a winner."  
  
"Now I suggest we call the police. They're probably wondering what happened to good Ol' Eric and I really do need to get some sleep before I leave in the morning."  
  
****************************  
  
The next morning after Thomas had showered and dressed he headed downstairs with his bags. The entire Kent household waited to bid their goodbyes. Waiting with warm smiles they froze in place when he came to the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"What happened to your hair?" Clark asked pointing at Thomas' now dark hair color.  
  
"Didn't seem to be a reason to keep the blonde look anymore."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I'll tell you all about it sometime," Thomas answered turning to the elder Kents. "Jonathan, Martha it's been a pleasure being here the past few days. Despite the madness it reminded me of some happier times. Thank you."  
  
"Thank you, Thomas," Martha said leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek.  
  
"And feel free to visit anytime," Jonathan added shaking Thomas' hand.  
  
Thomas turned to Clark and held out his hand.  
  
"I'm sure we'll meet again in the future, Clark. Until then, take care of yourself."  
  
"You too," Clark replied shaking the offered hand, "and thank you again for making me think about what's important."  
  
"I'm just glad you survived your talk with Lana last night," Thomas said smiling.  
  
Looking over at the scowl that appeared on his father's face Clark said, "Don't remind me, or him anyway."  
  
Thomas laughed, hugged Martha again and went out the door.  
  
*************************  
  
A few days later after everything had settled down and life had started to return to normal the Kent family was finally able to share some time together while sitting on their front porch. The calm of the morning though was interrupted by the arrival of a blue Ford Taurus coming up the driveway.  
  
When it reached the house it came to a stop and a tall man dressed in khaki slacks, blue dress shirt and a brown sports coat got out.  
  
"Good morning sir, how are you today?" he greeted. "Would you happen to be Mr. Jonathan Kent?"  
  
"Yes sir," Jonathan answered, "what can I do for you?  
  
"My name is Phillip Walters and I represent McGugill Laboratories. We do research into organic growing techniques and would like to offer you a grant project."  
  
"A grant project? What kind of grant project?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"We understand that you do a small organic produce business from your farm here and we would like to offer you funding and access to the latest research and equipment. All at no cost to you of course."  
  
"Thank you Mr. Wa." Jonathan started, but Walters interrupted him before he could finish.  
  
"You and your family would of course be given final say so over all projects as to whether or not they would be implemented. And you would have final decision making input into the actual implementation as well. We would offer nothing but funding, information, equipment and advice. No interference whatsoever, and you could call a halt to the project at anytime."  
  
"Sounds too good to be true," Clark said somewhat suspiciously.  
  
"Yes," added Jonathan, "it does. Do you give out many of these grants, Mr. Walters?"  
  
"Actually, sir in all honesty this is our first. It sounded somewhat strange to us as well, but I myself received the call from the owner of our parent company just yesterday morning and it was he who outlined the parameters of the grant. He even arranged for the funding through our parent company himself. He said to let you know that he would pay for whatever lawyers you wished to have look over the deal and assure its legitimacy, but he seemed to think it wouldn't be a problem. He even sent a personal note by courier and asked that I give it to you."  
  
Mr. Walter's reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope with a stylized "W" on the outside, which he handed to Jonathan.  
  
Jonathan opened the letter and read it quietly to himself a small smile crossing his face as he did so.  
  
Dear Jonathan,  
  
I know I once told you I wouldn't ask you to blindly trust me, but trust me. This offer is genuine. The Luthors already have too much of a stranglehold on Smallville and I've developed too much of a stake in your family's future and happiness to see it and it's "natural resources" being left to the mercies of Lionel Luthor just because of a bad growing season. Besides, the industry really is badly in need of research into organic crop growth so your participation would be a huge help. Should you ever need anything you have but to call. And don't worry, like I told you before, I know something about secrets and as a gesture of trust I leave you with one of my own.  
  
Respectfully,  
  
Bruce Wayne  
  
~The End~ 


End file.
